Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Botswana and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Beasts of Bourbon to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
The Toasters,
The Fall,
Organ,
Scion,
Rod Modell,
Nik Kershaw,
Banda Bassotti,
The Doors,
Sixth Finger,
Lucky Dragons,
The Moody Blues,
Joy Division,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Golliwogs,
Anakelly,
Boz Scaggs,
The Divine Comedy,
Amazonics,
The Happenings,
Interpol,
Gang Green,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Nation of Ulysses,
Severed Heads,
Stiv Bators,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Make Up,
Blancmange,
Eurythmics,
Negative Approach,
Urselle,
Sun City Girls,
Masters at Work,
The Detroit Cobras,
Agitation Free,
Ultra Naté,
Brick,
Aaron Thompson,
Depeche Mode,
Mad Mike,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Real Kids,
June Days,
Circle Jerks,
Wire,
Minny Pops,
The Barracudas,
Ronnie Foster,
Unrelated Segments,
Judy Mowatt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Infiniti,
Marc Almond,
Visage,
Toni Rubio,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rites of Spring,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.